Page 5 of Jaxon

Jaxon looked back at the nurse, a wolfish grin slowly curving his mouth. “Then you can tell her that her husband is here.”

4

Rachel came around the bend and locked eyes with Jaxon, surprised he actually came to check on her. She wasn’t used to having people around her that cared.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I told you I was coming. Found this on the ground. Important for work, I believe.”

She took the ID badge from him and put it in her pocket. “Thanks.”

“What do you say we stop and get you something to eat and then take you home?”

Rachel hesitated because she didn’t know much about this man, but without a car, her only other option was a taxi. “Sure.”

She followed him outside to his motorcycle.

A flicker of relief crossed Jaxon’s face as he helped her onto the bike. “You’re in good hands now,” he said, and as the engine roared to life, Rachel found herself hoping with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

The powerful rumble of Jaxon’s motorcycle vibrated through Rachel’s entire body as they sped down the dark, twisting road. Her heart pounded in time with the beat of the motor, a chaotic staccato rhythm fueled by equal parts pain, fear and adrenaline.

She didn’t know this man or where he was taking her. For all she knew, she was being kidnapped. But her knee throbbed mercilessly with every bump in the road, a stark reminder that she was in no condition to escape. She had no choice but to put her faith in a stranger.

Rachel gritted her teeth against the agony, clinging to Jaxon as he whipped around a corner. The motion sent a spike of pain shooting up her leg and she couldn’t stifle a gasp.

“You okay back there?” Jaxon’s voice was gruff.

“Hurts,” she managed through clenched teeth.

The motorcycle slowed. “Hang in there. We’re almost at the diner.”

They rolled to a stop outside a weathered building with neon signs flickering in the windows. A handful of motorcycles were parked outside, and through the glass Rachel could make out a few men in leather cuts drinking coffee at a counter.

Her heart stuttered. A biker diner. She was in a sea of strangers, vulnerable and injured, surrounded by the roar of engines and aura of danger.

Rachel swallowed hard, steeling herself as Jaxon killed the engine and turned to face her. “Still with me?”

She managed a jerky nod, breath coming fast. Jaxon seemed to understand her fear, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

“You’re safe here, darlin’,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His steady blue eyes anchored her, a lifeline in the chaos, and Rachel slowly felt her panic recede. She didn’t know why she believed him, but she did.

Nodding shakily, she let Jaxon help her off the bike and into the warmth of the diner, where a woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor bustled over to fuss over Rachel’s injury.

Jaxon guided Rachel to a booth, settling her in with a menu and strict orders to choose whatever she wanted. It was clear he was a regular here, on friendly terms with the staff. Rachel looked around at the worn wood and chrome decor, bikers lounging at the counter and in booths. It felt like a world apart from her own.

When their food was ready, Jaxon took the bags, helping Rachel back onto his bike for the ride to her place. The rumble of the engine and the solid warmth of his back against hers was oddly soothing.

Jaxon turned his head to murmur over his shoulder. “Doing okay back there?”

The timbre of his voice reverberated through her, as dangerously potent as the rumble of the motorcycle between her legs. Rachel swallowed hard, glad for the concealing visor of her helmet.

“I’m fine,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear the breathlessness in her tone.

“Good.” His hand squeezed hers where it rested on his abdomen, then returned to the handlebar. “Not much farther to go.”

Too soon, the familiar apartment complex came into view. Rachel was disappointed, not yet ready for this ride to end.

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